a guide for those who are in love with an imaginary love
don’t.
just don’t.
constant.
romance never changes:
it is you.
always.
contradiction.
my brain spells this,
my heart spells that.
i said love is everything that is confined by bullshit
but that bullshit is what i crave for.
you made myself not aligned anymore.
now i am made up by turns,
from head to toe, in such long,
bumpy roads ahead of me
with thoughts of you as the final destination.
half-moon
when the night sky is
hushing the sun’s leftovers
there is a half-moon
hanging with such a thin red thread.
see the half-moon i hung for you:
you eat up away half my life
like you don’t know that love is an omnivore
and i’m staying with the rabbits here
to see if you fill up the empty space
or devour me into nothingness.
how to make a love poem
it is easy:
say something exquisite in figurative language
that made people brain melted upon thinking about it.
just like that, just like that.
just like your heart expands into something bigger,
far, far bigger than the universe when you see him breathe;
just like the flowers bloom on the roadside of your ribs
when he utters something beautifully mundane to your ears;
just like the stars inside your thoughts aligned
as if he is truly the one you’ll let yourself curve into.
then again if you are in love
every word would be read as his name, anyway,
and you will consider it as the definition of poetry.
lol
laugh out loud
here is a pretentious girl
trying to tie love into something new
but every love-related is the same, is the same.
you just fall
into this mess
and laugh about it
inside and outside,
just trying not to mourn.
for the things
you cannot have.
you laugh out loud.
parallel
closing my eyes would be seeing you somewhere else
where i use your clothes in comfort
and you use my favorite mug nonchalantly.
closing my eyes would be seeing you somewhere else
where i don’t mind you smoking
where you don’t mind me biting my nails
and we try to be happy with our gross habits.
closing my eyes would be seeing you somewhere else
where i would look at you closing your eyes
on our bed, under our plain ceiling, in our cluttered room
in a place where i can say i love you with a breeze
with my own mouth, my own fingers, my whole core.
closing my eyes would be seeing a diorama
of such delusions of us making every day
into new forgotten suns and moons
because opening my eyes would be realizing
you are the space and i’m trying to grasp the impossible.
religious
i slip your name into my prayers
and hope the demons don’t swarm
your dreams with things you hate.
yours
i don’t have to speak out loud:
i watch the savanna splaying across your back
and the horizon is too far for my fingertips
as if you are my north
as if i’m your south
we are fixed in our positions.
